


Hazey

by filthMagnet



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human/Troll Society (Homestuck), Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Breakups, Crying, Heartache, M/M, Maybe a happy ending, Minor Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam, Panic Attacks, Sadstuck, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 04:09:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13379874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/filthMagnet/pseuds/filthMagnet
Summary: Some sadstuck I kind of wrote up awhile ago and decided to work on again. I think I may turn this into something longer when I have more free time.The rating may change and tags might be added too. :)





	Hazey

**Author's Note:**

> The title is named after the song "Hazey" by Glass Animals

You wanted to be sick. 

 

Just watching them dance and move together reminded you so much of why you ditched all the previous parties before this for the past six months. 

 

It was a long six months, that was for damn sure. Almost as long as this night. 

 

You were slamming back drinks like they were fucking candy, and you couldn't give less of a flying fuck. You were here to get shitfaced after watching your ex and one of your supposed best friends grinding against him. 

 

Your hands were shaky and you felt too numbed by the vodka to even cry right now. Not that the flashing lights and blaring music couldn't help you hide it. You could be writhing on the floor and no one would hear or notice you. But you were okay with that. 

 

You were okay with everything that happened. With the arguments. With the door slamming. With the engine running. With the car peeling out. With watching him dangle everything in your face to make you jealous. 

 

You were so fucking exhausted with his mind games to get you back, and you knew you weren't stupid enough to fall for them. You wanted to though. You wanted things to be back to the way they were before. You hated it. You hated him. You hated how much you still loved him. 

 

After your fifth or sixth (maybe seventh, but who's counting) shot, you stagger to your feet from the bar in your loaded friend's house. Eridan knew how to throw parties, but you couldn't even enjoy them anymore. You decided you've had enough, and this party was too much. 

 

Your head was spinning which meant you'd have a wicked headache in the morning. You remember whenever you'd get like this, Dave was there to take care of you in the morning. Honestly, you were a lightweight. When he told you that at first, you were offended. But now you're glad that you're one so you can forget about all of this in the morning. 

 

You try to stumble around the hoards of dancing people and partners and not-partners, wanting to gag at every point of contact. A few guys and a girl try to get you to dance, but you feel like you’re physically going to be sick. You barely make it out to your car when someone stops you by grabbing your wrist. 

 

And, of course, it’s just your fucking luck. 

 

Dave is standing there in front of you with a worried look on his disgustingly attractive face. Well, as worried as a tipsy man can be. You weren't one to talk though. You were clearly worse off than him in the shitfaced department.

 

Had he been watching you though? You doubted he would've followed you in that sort of mess if he weren't. 

 

“Dude, are you thinkin’ of drivin’ or somethin’?” He slurs out to you. His southern drawl was always more prominent when he drank, and you had adored it at one point. Now it pissed you off. 

 

You ripped your wrist away from him, which made you stumble back into your door. He barely even said jack to you, and here you were on the verge of tears. Not tonight. Jesus Christ, not tonight. Your mind is too muddled for this garbage.

 

Instead of responding, you jam your key into the lock of your driver's side door, unlocking it by some miracle. 

 

“Hey!” Dave stops you before you can actually open the door itself, stealing your keys from you. 

 

Yep, you were crying now, and you loathed how cracked your voice came out when you managed to speak. “Fuck off.” You made a grab for your keys, nearly tripping in your current state. It was easy for him to hold them out of reach with your bullshit height difference. 

 

“Yer gonna fucken kill yourself if you try to drive, you fucken moron-” Dave starts, but you shove him roughly without even thinking. 

 

The poor bastard stumbles back and lands on his ass, and you would've laughed had you not been so pissed. Who did he think he was trying to come back and act like he gave a single fuck about you? He didn't have the right to act like that. He looks so baffled that you wish you'd done that sooner.

 

“Don't you fucking dare start acting like you care, you- you-” You can’t even think of a proper insult, so you make a frustrated noise instead. “Keys. Now,” you demand. You search for his gaze behind his shades, and he stays silent for a long moment. 

 

“No,” he finally says, keeping your keys clutched in his hand. 

 

“Fuck off of my keys and go grind against Helen Keller, thanks,” you hissed out. It was like word vomit. Terezi was supposed to be your friend, but it stopped being that way two weeks after your breakup with Dave. “I wanna go home and forget about this.” 

 

“It’s not like that, Kat-”

 

You cut him off almost instantly, “Don't fucken.. use nicknames on me like.. we're all buddy-buddy, kay? Piece ‘a shit...” God, you sounded like you downed the entire bar. 

 

You're tempted to shove him back down when he gets back up to his feet, your keys disappearing somewhere in his pockets. You lean against the side of your car, yanking the unlocked door open so you can at least sit inside. It was kind of cold out here. 

 

You settle yourself into your driver's seat, forehead resting on the steering wheel. You're about to lock the car, but the passenger side opens and Dave fucking makes himself at home in the seat next to you. 

 

You're too weak to fight with him, and frankly, you could feel your stomach churning. You also felt the familiar feeling of hot tears streaming down your face. Great. This was probably exactly what this asshole wanted. You weren't going to fall for his apologetic bullshit though. You couldn't. Kanaya reminded you of why you weren't together anymore. It was suffocating. Dave was too immature to handle anything romantic without acting like a fuckboy, on top of that. 

 

You didn't realize how hard you were gripping the steering wheel and how hard you were sobbing until you felt a pair of sickeningly familiar arms wrapping around you from the side. 

 

The scent of alcohol was heavy over both of you, but you could still smell the cologne and shampoo he always used, and it made you sick. Emotionally and physically. So sick, in fact, that you choked back actual vomit. 

 

He didn't understand why you were trying to shove him away now, and he wouldn't let you go. You were crying too hard to warn him about the fact that your stomach was about to part the Red fucking Sea right now. 

 

Because of how much of a fucking ignorant cuck he was, you spewed the contents of your stomach out into his lap. You would've felt bad had you not been so wasted, tired, hurt, and pissed. This was proof of how much he never listened to you, and, as expected, he tenses up and tries not to gag. You can't blame him. You hadn't even eaten today, so it was all bile and some awful concoction of alcohol. 

 

What surprised you the most was that he didn't shove you away, but he gently untangled you from him. Your head lulled to the side and you leaned against the driver's side door while you sobbed even harder. That was interrupted by you almost falling out of the car when Dave opened your door and made you switch seats with him. It wasn't the best of ideas to let a tipsy douchecanoe drive, but it was probably better than letting your wrecked self drive and risk a serious accident. 

 

You started to drift in and out of consciousness at this point, only remembering some flashes of what the hell was going on with you. One second you were in your car, the next second you were back in Dave's arms and ascending some stairs, the next second you were in bed. It was a shitty blur. 

 

The next morning, it took a lot for you to even open your eyes and accept the crushing headache you had. It felt like you were being skullfucked by Skeletor. When you mustered up the strength to open your eyes, you almost shat a pile of bricks. 

 

Out of all the places to crash in your apartment, he really picked the place next to you in bed??? You couldn't even shove down the hungover rage. Your head was pounding, you were tired, and seeing him made your heart ache and simultaneously seethe with rage. 

 

This was motivation enough to sit up and let loose on all your pent up anger you held against him for all these months. First, you started with shoving him out of your bed. 

 

“What the FUCK?!” You screech once you hear the thump of his body landing on the floor. You knew that jolted him awake. You knew him like the back of your fucking hand and how he'd react.

 

He looked up at you with those beautiful crimson eyes with alarm before his features contorted into irritation. “What the fuck???” He countered, continuing, “Why the hell did you push me off?! I dragged your sorry ass home and made sure you didn't end up out of a scene from, like, Final Destination or some other BS.” 

 

You wrapped the blankets around yourself, glaring daggers into him. Okay, maybe shoving him over the edge of your bed Lion King style was unnecessary, but it was worth it. “I didn't need your help! I would've been fine on my own, fuck you very much.” 

 

He scoffed and sat up. He was only in his shirt and boxers, probably because you let loose on his pants in the wee hours of the morning. “Karkat, you were so wrecked that you weren't even walking straight. I don't care what happened between us, but I couldn't let you risk killing yourself in a car-” 

 

“SHUT UP,” you snapped. No. He wasn't allowed to act like he cared. You wouldn't let him burst back into your life like this. “Stop acting like you actually GIVE A FLYING FUCK. Everyone knows you'd do anything for a quick fuck, no matter if it's your ex or not. You don’t care about anyone but yourself, so don’t even try to convince me otherwise, you dirty scumbag.” The look of hurt that flashed on Dave's face was unmistakable, but you didn't care. You knew he really didn't care, so why should you? 

 

“I haven't even slept with another person since you! What the hell are you going on about???” It took Dave a moment of gripping the edge of the bed to stand up so that he was almost towering over you. You hated how he could do that. You hated many, many things about him right now. “And I do care about you a whole lot. If I didn't care, why would I come running after you to make sure you didn't die?”

 

You laughed humorlessly at him, scoffing up at him. “HA. And I'm the Pope. Maybe I should ask Terezi, Jade, or whoever else I've seen you with. And you were just doing what any normal human being would do. I'm sorry, but we've run out of medals for human decency, motherfucker.”

 

His lips tightened up into a straight line, and you could see how hard he was trying not to scream. “Karkat. I haven't put my hands on another person like that-”

 

“Save your shit for the press, thanks. Get OUT of my apartment. Don't forget your pants or the fact that you left me at one of my lowest points because you couldn't ‘handle it’. You know what I can't handle right now, Strider? I can't handle seeing your pathetic face. I can't handle listening to your voice grating on my ears. I can’t handle losing three years of my life to you! I can't handle dealing with this and how much I want to HATE you, but I can't!” The tears were flowing again, but you didn't try to stop them anymore. “GET THE FUCK OUT, YOU PIECE OF SHIT,” you screamed at the frozen Strider. Your voice probably cracked a few times somewhere in that tangent. 

 

You heaved for air and curled up under your blankets, trying to block out the world. It was this thing you did when you worked yourself up to the point of a panic attack, and all you wanted to do was hide. Unfortunately, Dave also knew this, and he knew how to handle you when you went into shutdown mode. 

 

You didn't hear movement for a solid minute, but soon enough, a body was hovering near you and reaching out to wrap you back up in his arms. The fucker knew that you'd try to resist clinging, but you'd cave in. Contact was something you always felt starved of throughout your life, especially with Dave. Even when you were together, you could never get enough of him. He was your lifeline. It still felt like he was, and it made you heave in oxygen harder. 

 

You couldn't accept this though. Not now. 

 

So you shove him off and back onto the floor where he belonged. 

 

“Get. Out.” You were shaking and glaring at him, and he stared at you from his place on the floor, studying your expression. 

 

He didn't say anything as he left and carried his pants out with him. Since he took you home in your car, he was shit out of luck for a ride unless he called a god damn Uber or one of his friends. 

 

You pulled back the curtains covering the window in your room enough to watch Dave wait on the curb until Jade pulled up in her Jeep. You felt a sickening pang in your stomach, but you knew it wasn't because you were starving or hungover. 

 

After Dave was gone, you sat down on your bed with your head in your hands while you wondered how the hell it came to this.

 

**Author's Note:**

> tbh im probably just venting about life lmao


End file.
